


A Taste of the Muggle World

by RedButterfly33



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Swan Lake & Related Fandoms, Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Amusement Parks, Arcades, Bar Room Brawl, F/M, First Dates, Inspired by Lady and the Tramp (1955), Muggle Culture, Purebloods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 09:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedButterfly33/pseuds/RedButterfly33
Summary: It was just insane how little Rose knew about the Muggle world. Curly could hardly believe that parents would keep their kid this isolated; his mom and dad let him roam around town even when he was little. But then again, they didn't live in a fancy manor in the middle of nowhere.





	A Taste of the Muggle World

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Swan Princess](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14760671) by [Gallons_of_the_Stuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallons_of_the_Stuff/pseuds/Gallons_of_the_Stuff), [human_wreckage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/human_wreckage/pseuds/human_wreckage), [RedButterfly33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedButterfly33/pseuds/RedButterfly33). 



The kettle whistled loudly from the hotplate.

"Will you pass me the tea leaves?" Mrs. Fitzherbert said to her husband, removing it to pour hot water in the three cups waiting on the table.

"What is it with you and tea leaves?" Mr. Fitzherbert placed the cardboard box next to the cups. "Can't we just use regular tea bags?"

"It's a magic thing," his wife replied evasively, stirring the tea.

Feet thumped quickly down the stairs as their son, Curran—or Curly, as he was known to his friends—barrelled into the kitchen.

"Just in time for breakfast," Mrs. Fitzherbert said, smiling brightly and offering him one of the cups.

"No time, Mom," Curly replied, snatching a piece of toast and stuffing it in his mouth. Cheeks still full like a chipmunk, he mumbled, "I'm gonna be late and Rose will kill me." The teen swallowed, then reached for the cup and took a swig, only to shove it back into his mother's hands. "Hot, hot, hot, hot! Mom, are you trying to kill me?!"

Mr. Fitzherbert laughed behind his paper. "Yes, honey, you don't want him to die before going on his very first  _date_  with Rose, do you?"

"I told you before, Dad, it's not a date," Curly said, reaching for the pouch of Floo powder. "We're just friends."

"Riiiiight. Have fun on your 'friend' date, then." Mr. Fitzherbert lowered the paper to smirk at his son, looking him over. "Your hair looks different today. Did you try to style it?"

Curly didn't dignify that with a response, but his face did flush suspiciously as he threw a fistful of powder in the fireplace, making it roar to life. "Waltz Manor," he said, stepping into the dancing green flames.

"Don't you think you tease him too much sometimes?" Mrs. Fitzherbert said as her son spun out of sight, draining the rest of Curly's tea into the sink.

Her husband simply snickered. "Nah. He knows I'm right. The sooner he realizes it, the better it will be for everyone."

Mrs. Fitzherbert smiled and shook her head, lifting the cup to the light to inspect what remained of the tea leaves. A sun in the upper left corner—that meant happiness and luck. Below it, an animal resembling a goat—a sign to beware of enemies. She glanced at the fireplace again, hoping against hope that the kids wouldn't run into trouble on their date.

* * *

 

-oOo-

Curly stumbled out of the big, ornate fireplace, coughing up a storm.

A voice whispered, "What is he  _wearing_?"

"Hush, Rogers. Curly, are you okay?"  _This_  voice, he recognized.

"Yeah— _cough_ —I just got some ash in my mouth."

Straightening up, Curly dusted off his clothes and looked around the richly decorated room. Right next to the fireplace stood a tall, white-haired wizard, whose expression reminded him of Headmistress McGonagall's face when he flooded the Slytherin common room as a prank gone slightly wrong. He lost 100 points for Hufflepuff that day.

On the man's right was Rose, dressed in fancy dark blue robes. "Erm, Curly, this is Rogers," she said, gesturing to the older wizard. "He's been my magic tutor since I was little." Rogers inclined his head in acknowledgement. Rose looked over Curly curiously. "What  _are_  you wearing?"

Curly glanced down at his jeans and t-shirt. "Uh… Muggle clothes. I did tell you we're going to a Muggle town, right?"

Rose blinked at him in confusion. "Were we… was I supposed to…?" Her face fell. "Curly, I… I don't have any Muggle clothes. Does that mean we can't go?"

Rogers huffed in approval. "Your parents were never keen on the idea, anyway. A Muggle settlement is no place for a pureblood witch, Miss Rose, and I personally—"

"Of course we can go," Curly interrupted, sidestepping past Rogers and pulling Rose towards the door. "Don't worry about your clothes," he added to her, smiling reassuringly. "I'll think of something."

If Curly had to rank his preferred methods of transportation, a flying broomstick would absolutely be at the top and Apparition all the way at the bottom. However, Waltz Manor was too far away from Muggle civilization, leaving no other options. Even half an hour later, his stomach was still unsettled from the quick but still unpleasant process, not to mention he'd never Side-Along Apparated anyone before. Not that he told Rose that.

"You don't have to carry it," he said to her as they passed under the big archway serving as the entrance of the Muggle amusement park, nodding to the bag in her hands. Said bag contained her heavy blue robes, replaced now by a simple dress they had bought from a Muggle clothing store. Pink really suited Rose.

"If you're sure…" she said hesitantly, handing it over.

Two children ran past them, hurrying to get in line for one of the more thrill-inducing rides. Curly cast a quick glance around, then pulled out his wand, muttering a shrinking spell. The bag was reduced to the size of his palm, and he stuffed it in his pocket.

Rose gave him a stern look. "Just because you can use magic outside of school now, that doesn't mean you should flaunt it."

Curly couldn't help a grin. "Hey, what's the point of magic if you don't make your life easier every once in awhile?" She rolled her eyes. "Aw, come on, Rose, it was a small spell! Just a teeny-tiny one. What's the harm?"

"The harm is potentially breaching the Statute of Secrecy," she reminded him.

"You're just jealous that you can't do it yourself yet," he teased good-naturedly.

Rose shook her head and sighed in exasperation. Today was about having fun, though, so Curly looked around, searching for a something with which to distract her from his rule-breaking ways.

People were walking by them in both directions, stopping to form small crowds around the different stands—whack-a-mole, hot dogs, balloons. popcorn, lemonade... One of those in particular caught Curly's attention, and his face lit up with an idea.

"Oh, you'll  _love_  this! Come on!" He grabbed Rose's hand so they wouldn't get separated in the crowd and pulled her to a nearby cotton candy stand.

"What… is this?" she asked curiously when he paid the vendor and handed her the pink, puffy treat, looking at it from all angles. "Some sort of botched transfiguration? An odd substitution charm?"

He could almost see the cogs turning in that Ravenclaw mind of hers, and it made him laugh. "It's candy. You eat it. Like this." Curly tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth. "Try it."

Rose eyed it sceptically, but her fingers rose hesitantly to the sugary fluff and pulled some away. She inspected it closely, sniffed it, then bit into it cautiously. Her eyes widened. "It's… sweet. But it looks like cotton… how is that possible? I thought Muggles couldn't do magic."

Curly managed to keep the laugh bubbling up inside him to just a smile as he explained, "It only  _looks_  like cotton. Muggles have this machine, I'm not sure how it works, but it makes it out of sugar. No magic here."

Rose looked back to the candy. "Sugar…" she drawled thoughtfully. Then she finished the bit still in her fingers.

"I knew you'd like it," Curly quipped, snatching some more for himself. "It's  _pink_."

Rose laughed.  _Success!_  Her first foray into purely Muggle junk food went great. That was progress.

It was just insane how little she knew about the Muggle world. Curly could hardly believe that parents would keep their kid this isolated; his mom and dad let him roam around town even when he was little. But then again, they didn't live in a fancy manor in the middle of nowhere.

Curly didn't want to risk ruining Rose's day with more shady amusement park food, though, so they spent the rest of it going on all the different rides. He steered clear of the more vomit-inducing ones, feeling like Rose wouldn't appreciate a drop tower or a roller coaster very much.

* * *

 ~oOo~

Darkness slowly enveloped the park like a blanket, but the different lights and sounds made it feel nothing like night. Rose wasn't used to being surrounded by so much racket, and the experience was both exciting and frightening. Everyone around them seemed to be having fun, but a crowd this big still unnerved her, and she walked as closely to Curly as she could.

Suddenly, he stopped, and she almost bumped into him.

He turned to face her, eyes shining with excitement. "Ever been to an arcade?"

She stared at him blankly.

"Oh man, then you've never lived!" he exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her through the sea of people to a flashy building, decorated with many depictions of cartoony characters.

Rose had no idea what they were doing here, but allowed him to drag her along, buy tokens and approach a tall, odd-looking yellow box.

"This is an arcade game," he explained, putting a token in the slot. "It's called Pac Man. You control this yellow circle there, and the goal is to eat all of the dots before the ghosts catch you."

The square in the middle of the box came to life, and she watched curiously as Curly played for a bit, explaining the rules and mechanics of the game. Then he showed her the controls and let her try it out.

"No, wait!" she exclaimed when the red ghost caught up to Pac Man. The machine beeped as the collection of pixels died, and she forgot about the controls, gripping the edges of the game. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to get hurt!"

The screen blinked, and the game reset.

Rose backed away, worried and confused, then looked to Curly. "What happened? Is Mr. Pac Man okay?"

His expression, thoroughly surprised at first, turned into one of barely contained amusement. "Rose, this is a Muggle game, remember?" Curly said lightly and tapped his knuckles against the opening screen, where Pac Man ran across the middle again, chased by the ghosts. "See? He's fine. This isn't like the magical portraits and pictures you've seen."

"But he died, didn't he?" she asked, only getting more confused.

"Yeah, but..." He seemed to struggle for the right way to put it. "He doesn't mind it. He's only an avatar for the player; he doesn't have awareness like the Hogwarts portraits do."

"He isn't capable of speech," she noted. "How do you know he doesn't mind it? What if he is in pain, but he just can't tell you? No one 'doesn't mind' dying!"

Curly stared at her for a moment, at a total loss for words. She wondered why he seemed to be this blasé about it, considering his usual concern when people got hurt.

"Look, Rose, it's just a game. See that poster over there?" He pointed to a faded advertisement, showing off Street Fighter IV Turbo. "Muggle pictures don't move. They don't have feelings or thoughts, they're just still images."

Rose leaned to the right and inspected the side of the machine. The pictured Pac Man was not moving either. "So they don't get hurt when they die?"

Curly nodded. "Not in the slightest." He looked relieved that she had come around so quickly.

Rose was a logical, no-nonsense type of person, who never just accepted things as fact without substantial evidence. But, if there was anything that came as easily to her as breathing, it was trusting Curly. He had never let her down before.

"Okay," she said, gripping the plastic end of the control rod. "Can I have another go, then?"

"Sure!" he replied happily, face lighting up.

They played a few more games, taking turns. The game got progressively more and more fun as Rose got used to the controls and the sheer novelty of it, and Curly cheered loudly every time he scored a win. After a while, she even managed to beat a level.

"WOOHOO!" He pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. "Way to go, Rose! Your first victory!"

Rose smiled brightly. "Thank you," she said, letting him take over again. "I think all this excitement has made me thirsty. Is there a place I can buy a drink from?"

"Yeah, sure." Curly reached into his pocket and gave her a piece of paper. "Get whatever you want and give this to the guy. It's Muggle money."

Rose inspected the currency, but before she could ask more questions about it, the game started beeping again, effectively absorbing Curly's attention.

The young witch made her way to the food court and, not knowing what most of the Muggle drinks were, chose an item at random.

"Hey, not to pry or anything, but are you here with Fitz?" asked the teen handling register, returning her change.

"With who?" Rose asked, confused, and he nodded to the machine Curly was playing at. It dawned on her that 'Fitz' was short for Fitzherbert. "Oh, you mean him? Yes, he brought me here."

"For real? I didn't know he was back from his fancy boarding school yet," came another voice from behind her, and she turned to face a small group of teens. "Hey, Greg," the boy who had spoken said, bumping his fist to the food court guy's. Then he turned to Rose. "So, you Fitz's girlfriend or something?"

"No," Rose replied. "We are friends, though."

"Well, any friend of Fitz's is a friend of ours!" the boy said. "I'm Reggie." He offered his hand, and Rose shook it hesitantly. "Listen, we were just about to head out to The Hub. Why don't you come with us?"

"What is that?" Rose asked.

Reggie shrugged nonchalantly. "It's a place my family owns. It's technically for over twenty-ones, but I've got a clandestine way in." He winked. "You interested?"

"Erm… I don't know..." Rose said, looking over Reggie's shoulder at Curly, who still seemed absorbed in the game.

"He's playing Pac Man again?" said an older girl with long, blonde hair, following Rose's gaze. "Ah, let him finish it, he loves that game. Greg, tell him where we are, will you?"

"Sure thing, Peg," the arcade guy said, grinning.

Rose didn't know what to do. Was this a normal Muggle thing? Would she get in trouble if she resisted?

"Come on, pigeon," the girl named Peg said, smiling warmly. "I promise I won't let these hound dogs harass you."

The teens laughed and, seeing little choice in the matter, Rose went along as they filed out of the arcade. They seemed friendly enough, and hey, if they were friends of Curly's then they couldn't be that bad, right?

'The Hub' turned out to be a Muggle dance club. There were neon colors everywhere, the music was loud and thumping, the lights—bright and throbbing. Reggie and the others settled down in a booth, which made hearing each other easier.

"What will it be?" a pretty waitress asked when they were all seated.

"Erm..." Rose looked around hesitantly.

Peg giggled next to her. "We'll have two cherry Budweisers, Claire." Then she leaned back into the seat and turned to Rose. "So, how'd you meet Fitz?"

"At school," Rose replied vaguely.

Peg chuckled. "He didn't prank you, did he?"

"Erm… not me, no. He was throwing water balloons at people from high above. I walked in on him, and he was so startled he almost fell out the window. I helped him get rid of the balloons and… we've been friends ever since." Rose said, absentmindedly accepting the bottle she was being handed by the waitress. "What is this?"

"Beer," Peg replied, popping the cap on hers, then assisting with Rose's. "Classic Fitz. Bet your friends all love him too, don't they."

Rose didn't know what beer was, but if everyone else was drinking it, then it ought to be fine. She inspected the contents as best she could—it kind of looked like colored Gillywater—then raised it to her lips. The taste was strange, but sort of fruity.

"Well, actually… I'd never had a friend before him," she replied. "I'd never really thought about friends as being all that important in the past. I had my books and my responsibilities; I didn't need pointless distractions. Besides… there wasn't exactly an eager crowd lining up for the position." Rose looked at her reflection in the bottle, her face growing serious. "But he's different. He's just so… kind. And open. I still don't know why he hangs around me at all, but I'm glad for it."

"Oh, honey." Peg put a sisterly hand on Rose's shoulder. "It's written all over your face, but listen, I don't want you to get your hopes up too high. Take it from someone who's been there—he's like that with everyone."

Rose stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Peg smiled sympathetically. "The simple truth of it is that Fitz loooves being a White Knight. He sees a person struggling and immediately offers them a hand, tries to fix things, fix  _them_. It's just how he is. I know it's easy to think that you're special to him, but you aren't his first pet project." She raised the beer to her lips, took a sip, then chuckled softly. "Ah, but he's so dense. Breaks a new heart every day, and doesn't even notice. He means well, but it makes people, girls especially, feel like there's more to it than there really is. You must've noticed it yourself by now, seen the looks he gets. Hell, even I have got it pretty bad. But do yourself a favor, pigeon—don't take it to heart. He'll find another person to help soon enough."

Rose remained silent, staring unseeingly at the foaming surface of her drink. Her fingers tightened slightly around the cold glass.

* * *

 -oOo-

Leaning on his knees to catch his breath, Curly stopped right under the big neon sign of The Hub. He'd only taken his eyes off Rose for one minute! How could he have lost her?! Chest heavy with guilt and worry, he approached the bouncer and made to speak, but the guy just waved him through.

"Hiya, Fitz. Reggie said you'd be coming by. They're all waiting for you in there."

Mumbling a thank you, Curly rushed inside, his sight and hearing instantly assaulted by the loud music and throbbing lights. It didn't take him long to spot the others—they always sat in the same VIP booth. Making his way there through the sea of dancing bodies, the young wizard found Rose surrounded by his old schoolmates.

"Fitz!" a few people exclaimed when they saw him.

"Hey there, stranger!" Reggie said, offering him a beer. "Sit down, have a drink!"

"No thanks, Reggie," Curly said, fixing his eyes on Rose. "I'd love to catch up, but now's not really a good time."

An arm snaked around his neck, and he almost jumped. A girl he vaguely remembered from his old school—Trixie or something—was hugging him. "Come on, Fitz! We haven't seen you in forever! Stay awhile, just for a few hours."

"Sorry, can't," he said, removing the arm. "Let's go, Rose."

Rose was frowning. "I don't want to leave," she said. "I like it here."

Curly raised an eyebrow. "Says the girl whose favorite pastime is  _reading_." He reached for her wrist.

Rose wrenched away from him, surging to her feet. "Don't tell me what to do! I don't need you to look out for me, and protect me, and  _fix_  me! Go find your next project!"

For a moment, Curly was completely stumped—he'd never seen Rose act like this. His gaze moved to the bottle in her hand, then to the assortment of empty ones on the table, and his eyes narrowed.  _They gave her alcohol?!_

Trying to keep his focus on what was important, he simply set his jaw and said, "Rose, this isn't like you. We have to get out of here."

"You can leave if you want to so badly," she repeated stubbornly, crossing her arms. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere without  _you_!" he retorted, his own stubborn streak rearing its head. Curly was quick to realize, though, that the 'butting heads' strategy wouldn't get him anywhere—this was something in which the two of them usually tied. If he wanted her to go with him, he'd have to convince her. "Rose,  _please_ ," he said, softer this time, offering his hand. "You don't belong here, and you know it. Let me take you home."

For a moment, the only sound he heard was the loud, pulsating music. Curly could see that she was hesitating, but he waited for her reply, tension building in his gut with every passing second.

Suddenly, he felt a presence at his back.

"You heard the lady, mate," a voice rumbled behind him. "She wants to stay."

This was exactly why Curly didn't like this place. It tended to attract… trouble.

He turned around, slowly, coming face to face with three tall, burly men in their early twenties who he only knew in passing, but had seen enough of to know what was going to follow.

"Listen," he said, raising his palms in a pacifying gesture. "I'm not looking for a fight. I just want to take my friend and leave."

A rough fist caught the front of Curly's t-shirt, and he could smell the alcohol on the other man's breath as he said, "Then why are you making a scene?"

"Hey!" came Rose's shout from behind. "What do you think you're doing? Let go of him, you Muggle!"

Curly's head snapped back, and he nearly groaned, seeing Rose brandish her wand. One spell and she could be expelled from Hogwarts!

"What did you call me?" The guy let go of Curly, his hand reaching down his pocket, where the edge of a thin piece of wood peeked out of his jeans.

_Uh-oh._

Not waiting to see what spell he would use, Curly drew his own wand and aimed a Reductor curse at the lights overhead. There was a crackling explosion, and the club was plunged in darkness. People stomped about; shouts rang through the air as confusion and panic quickly spread. Curly grabbed Rose's hand and pulled her through the crowd, adding to the startled shrieks of the patrons. Running past the bouncer at the door, they didn't stop to answer his questions, bolting down the dark street.

And so they sprinted along the paved street, past random pedestrians and unfamiliar signposts. It took about ten minutes of a mad dash, but Curly managed to get them to a quiet park. They nearly collapsed on the first bench in sight, panting heavily.

"Sorry I had to drag you out of there," he said when he could breathe freely again.

"It's okay," Rose replied. After a moment, she added, "I'm sorry I said those things to you at the club. I don't know what came over me."

Curly leaned back against the bench. "It's fine." He looked to Rose. "What did they tell you?"

She sighed. "Nothing I didn't already know."

He turned to face her fully, elbow resting on the bench's back. "I'm gonna need more than that."

Rose gathered her hands in her lap. "They said you like to help people. That I'm not your first project. That I shouldn't take it personally when you move on to the next person."

The last bit irritated him for some reason. "You are not my 'project'. Is that why you said I wanted to fix you? Rose, you know it's not like that, don't you?"

Rose smiled slightly, glancing at him. "It's alright, I don't mind being your project. It's better than not knowing you at all."

Curly was not happy with that answer. "Look, I… it might have started with me wanting to help you out, but it's different now. I don't hang out with you because I want someone to fix. I  _like_  being around you. I like being your friend. It's true that I'm friendly with everyone, but the people I actually call 'friends' can be counted on my fingers, and you  _are_  on that short list. I know there's nothing I can do to prove those aren't just words, but I guess you'll just have to… trust me."

Something changed behind her eyes. Rose looked at him, and he knew he had done something right.

"I do trust you," she said simply.

And that was enough.

The tension in the air eased, and they both turned forward again, sitting in silence for a minute.

"Curly?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Budweiser?"

"Uh… it's a brand of beer."

"Yes, but what is beer?"

"It's Muggle alcohol."

"Oh…" There was a small pause. "I think I might be a little drunk, then."

"Yeah, I kinda figured." He gave her a sideways glance—she looked a bit dizzy. "Come on," Curly said, getting ready to stand. "I'll take you home."

"Actually… can we stay for a minute? I don't think Apparition would be… good for my stomach, at the moment."

"… Sure."

Silence settled over them as they just sat next to each other on the bench. Cars whizzed by occasionally, illuminating the scene for a few seconds at a time. The summer breeze rustled gently in the leaves above them. Rose leaned on him with a small groan; Curly glanced down at her, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"My head is spinning," she said.

"Alcohol does that."

The air in the park was pleasantly warm. Some sort of sweet, flowery scent lingered in it, but Curly couldn't tell where exactly it was coming from. Her blonde locks moved slightly with the wind.

"Thank you for showing me the Muggle world today," Rose piped up again. "I had fun."

He huffed a laugh. "Did you?"

"With you around, I think I'd have fun in the Sahara Desert."

Curly shook with silent laughter again, leaning his cheek on her head. "Really? I'm off to buy a camel for our next trip, then. I've always wanted to ride one."

Rose chuckled too, then went silent for a bit.

"I don't know how to explain it, exactly," she said quietly. "I just sort of feel like... no matter what happens or where I am, if you're there, everything will be okay."

"Is okay… good?"

Her arms coiled around his waist. "Okay is wonderful."


End file.
